When I was pregnant, I decided I would breastfeed. I wanted the benefits of breastfeeding (protection against illness, lower risk of sids, increased bonding, and an apparently higher IQ – for the baby, not me.). Plus, it’s waaaaaayyyyy cheaper than buying formula. It seemed like a no brainer.
I had read that breastfeeding can be difficult for many women though, so to prepare for that I watched videos, read books and websites, and took classes. I reached out to my local LLL (la leche league) chapter, and joined online support groups, trying to learn as much as I possibly could. Seriously. My LLL coach was beyond impressed with my initiative.
I was ready for latch issues, which seemed to be one of the most common issues women ran into. I read about tongue ties, and lip ties. I knew all about alternative positions to try in case one didn’t work. I saved lists of foods to avoid (or to eat!), learned about cluster feeding, and thought about how often I would need to breastfeed (on demand). I bought nursing bras, nursing tanks, nursing pads, nursing pillows…
I was not prepared for supply issues.
We didn’t have latch issues at all. If we had, I feel like this could have been a problem with a more straight-forward solution for me. But no, Raina latched like a pro from the start…which made me feel confident that this would work for us. I felt proud. And hopeful. And competent. That really sucks when it goes away.
Despite early attempts at nursing following my c-section, my milk didn’t come in until about 6 days after birth, and for some reason I never really produced much in terms of colostrum. I’m talking drops. If that. And when I say my milk “came in”…I didn’t actually feel this happen. I just noticed one day that there was white liquid where there had been yellow before. I never felt engorged. I’ve never felt a let down. My breasts didn’t feel fuller. They didn’t change size.
I’m not sure why this is. Some of the research I’ve read points to traumatic births; or more specifically a lengthy separation of mother and baby following the birth, and lack of skin to skin contact as major contributors to supply issues – which was certainly the case for me. Other sources say that hormonal imbalances can cause problems….which I also have. (insulin-resistant PCOS, and borderline Hypothyroidism)
Lucky me.
Anyway, during that time between colostrum and milk, my poor baby girl began losing a seriously scary amount of weight and became jaundiced. Jaundice causes lethargy, so we had to work really hard to wake Raina for every feed, and she would fall asleep at the breast within seconds. It was heartbreaking. It was terrifying. It was like it was too much work for her. Because of these issues, it was suggested we supplement with formula, which we did, even though I continued with breastfeeding too.
When we were discharged, the doctor told us that we were at her cutoff for infant weight loss (meaning we were right on the line between staying extra days, or getting to go home) and she wanted us to come back in a few days to have the baby weighed, just in case. She was concerned. So was I.
While at home, I breastfed like it was my job. I woke my sleepy baby every 2 hours on the dot, to try and get her to feed. It was incredibly difficult, and frustrating. I was scared that she was too weak. We tried cold cloths, stripping her down, rubbing her, putting something cold on her feet, etc. etc. to try and rouse her. She was so exhausted from the jaundice that she never really fed that well from the breast because of the effort it took – she just didn’t have it in her.
I had been discouraged from using a pump while in the hospital because the doctor said it wouldn’t increase my supply as effectively as nursing would. She told me that I needed baby to feed from the breast…but no one told me what to do if the baby just won’t feed. If they couldn’t feed. Out of desperation I began pumping anyway, just so that I could get some breast milk into her with a dropper. I was able to get a little milk with the pump…and combined with regular feeds of formula, Raina finally began to gain her weight back and the jaundice eventually cleared.
Once she had her strength back, I tried actively breastfeeding again and thankfully, it seemed to be going well. Raina’s latch was strong and consistent, and didn’t hurt at all – she was visibly swallowing, and nursed from both breasts each feed.
I enjoyed our nursing sessions. I felt good. I felt “motherly”. I felt like I was doing the right thing for my baby. I thought things were finally turning around. We had the “right” number (even more, actually) of wet and dirty diapers each day. That’s apparently how you know if the baby is getting what she should…so we went along like this for a while. I proudly took “brelfies” (breastfeeding selfies), and turned them into those trendy “tree of life” photos you saw floating around on social media a while back.
About two weeks after her birth though, Raina’s weight gain became a concern because it was too slow, and much too low. A nurse began visiting me at home, and it was then that I learned that Raina was not getting enough from me during our feeds. I felt terrible. Like I had been starving my baby. Like I was an awful, negligent, ignorant mother. How did I not know this? I thought we were doing well. I was devastated. My heart broke. I cried until I had no tears left – sobbed as I held my baby, looking into her eyes and apologizing to her over and over for failing her…cried as I called my husband at work to tell him about the nurse’s visit, and to discuss next steps.
We began supplementing more and more with formula to ensure steady weight gain. Every bottle I mixed up and fed to Raina made me feel a little more sad inside. It was just such tangible proof of my failure. I stopped breastfeeding almost entirely, to focus more on pumping so that I could be sure of how much she was getting at each feed. At first, knowing that she was still getting some breast milk made me feel a little better.
I started out pumping after each feed. That’s 7-8 times a day. In the beginning, I got about 4 oz. in total over a 24 hr period, which is utterly dismal – but was enough for at least one feed a day.
Unfortunately, that number has steadily dropped in the days since despite the number of pumping sessions remaining the same. Looking into those mostly empty bottles attached to the end of my pump was (and still is!) horribly depressing. And yet I kept on trying.
I started power pumping, drinking mother’s milk tea, taking fenugreek, massaging my breasts, eating oatmeal, drinking enough water to drown a camel. I avoided breastfeeding because it was too painful (emotionally), but read about, and reached out to support groups for advice on how to increase supply by pumping – I was assured it could be done. I also reached out to a local mom I found on a Human Milk for Human Babies milk-sharing group site, despite the fact that this is not encouraged due to health and safety concerns. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), she didn’t have a stash to share.
Today I’m down to a total of about 2 oz. from all pumping sessions combined. Not even enough for one feed. At this rate, it will take me two days to be able to fill one bottle for my girl…longer, if this downward trend continues.
I feel like giving up. I feel like a failure. I feel like I’m letting my baby down.
As I write this out, I’m feeling compelled to explore these negative emotions a little bit deeper. You see, it’s sort of interesting to me, because I am not actually opposed to formula feeding in the least. I am not, nor have I ever been, a strict “breast is best” advocate. Truth be told, I would normally put myself firmly in the “fed is best” camp. So why am I struggling so much with this? Why am I being so hard on myself?
I think for me, it got really personal, really quickly. I began to internalize my inability to produce enough milk as proof that my body doesn’t work, and by extension, proof that I was a bad mother. The recurrence of thoughts that my body is defective has been extremely triggering, given my history with infertility and miscarriages and the similar feelings of failure surrounding that whole ordeal. As much as I thought I had dealt with that, I guess sometimes things have a way of coming back to the surface.
Personal reasons aside, there is also an INTENSE amount of pressure to breastfeed. And it comes from everywhere – relatives, strangers, friends, medical professionals, and of course, society. The “breast is best” movement is a powerful one.
Bravo on a successful campaign, ladies.
Terms that have been given to breast milk like: “liquid gold” and “elixir of life” make it sound almost magical…leaving formula to sound, by comparison, not just less-than…but also a little like an unnatural, and certainly dangerous chemical cocktail.
I’ve seen bullies lactivists compare formula feeding to sticking a baby on an exhaust pipe. I’ve heard formula called poison. I’ve read posts on websites calling formula feeding mothers lazy and selfish – saying things like they are taking the “easy” way out, or are more concerned with convenience than doing what’s right for their child.
Seriously? Convenience? Have these people even tried to formula feed? It’s certainly not convenient. If you’re using powdered formula (which you will, eventually – because it’s more affordable than the pre-made liquid stuff), you have to boil water, let it cool to room temperature, measure it out, mix that with the right amount of formula, combine it in a way that allows you to get all the lumps out without getting a ton of foam/bubbles (this is not easy, let me tell you). And you have to do this in advance…because this process takes a while. Not to mention, all the cleaning/sterilizing of your bottles, rings, caps, and nipples all day, every day.
No – what’s convenient, is pulling out your breast to feed your child when they’re hungry. The milk is there. It’s ready. It’s already warm. That’s convenient. And easy, when it works for you. I’ve done both. I know.
Oh! And while I’m on a bit of a rant, why is it that everyone’s first question when they hear you’ve had a baby is: “are you breastfeeding?” I have never asked someone this. Why is this something we routinely ask women?
When I say no to this incredibly personal question, and you inevitably press on asking why not – what is it you want to hear? Do you really want to hear my “story”? Will my struggles with breastfeeding be “enough” for you to give me permission to use formula? Did I try hard enough for you? Will you try to give me advice that I didn’t ask for?
I pumped, fed, and breastfed around the clock for just shy of five weeks. Five weeks of tears, anxiety, fear, and feeling like a complete and utter failure as a woman and a mother. (also while recovering from a major, and let’s face it – traumatic, surgery)
I sat for hours at a time to produce half an ounce of “liquid gold” to give to my baby girl, all while others got to actually spend time with her, enjoying her. I would give anything to go back and have the chance to enjoy her during that time too.
So please – before you ask someone this, do me a favour and ask yourself why you’re asking. If you stop to think about it, you’ll realize that it is none of your business, of course…but more importantly, please remember that: A) they are feeding their kid in the manner they have deemed fit, and : B) how or why they do that doesn’t actually matter to you at all. Unless they are asking you to feed them, you really don’t need to know this, do you? I didn’t think so.
So, this all said, I think I’m tapping out. I’m calling it.
I’ve tried. I’ve cried. I’ve missed out. I’m done.
Now, if you’ll excuse me…I’ve got to go make some more bottles, and spend some time with my daughter.
GLA:D 